


Christmas At Home

by vanillalime



Category: Oz (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Christmas Fluff, Community: oz_magi, M/M, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-20
Updated: 2016-11-20
Packaged: 2018-09-01 05:05:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8609884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vanillalime/pseuds/vanillalime
Summary: Christmas AU based on the perennial Christmas standard "I’ll Be Home For Christmas."





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pride_of_erin](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=pride_of_erin).



> Originally posted to LiveJournal in January 2016. Written for pride_of_erin for Oz Magi 2015. The request:
> 
> Pairing/Character(s): Beecher/Keller  
> Keyword/Prompt Phrase: Mistletoe  
> Canon/AU/Either: Either  
> Special Requests: Something sweet, fluffy & Christmassy, please.  
> Story/Art/Either: Story
> 
> Credit: Lyrics for "I'll Be Home For Christmas" written by Kim Gannon.

**_* I’ll be home for Christmas,  
You can plan on me. *_ **

Toby hated airports with every fiber of his being.

He collapsed into a chair next to the gate for his flight. Well, for what was _supposed_ to be his flight. Five minutes would have made all the difference in the world. But now, here he was, with three extra hours to kill. _Because this week just hadn’t been shitty enough as it was,_ he grumbled to himself.

Wiping the perspiration from his brow, he waited for his heart rate to drop back down to normal. Once his nerves were steady, he fished through his carry-on bag until he found his phone.

Taking a deep breath, he placed the call.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Chris. I’ve got bad news."

There was a knowing pause. "They cancelled your flight."

"No, I missed the connection."

Toby heard the slight but distinct sigh of disappointment.

"My first flight was delayed by over an hour," Toby explained. "I made a run for it after we landed, but the plane had already taxied out to the runway by the time I reached the gate."

"Well, that sucks."

"Tell me about it. They were able to get me a seat on a flight with another airline, but it doesn’t leave until 6 o’clock."

"Six!"

"Yeah."

"But that means… "

"… I’m going to miss the Christmas Eve pageant at church."

There was silence on the other end, and it stretched until Chris finally said, "I’ll let the kids know. And I’ll record it for ya."

"Thank you."

Again, a significant pause, then Chris casually said, "Ya know, they’re forecastin’ a heavy snow for later tonight."

"How much later?"

"Supposed to start about 6 o’clock."

 _Well, shit._ "I’m not waking up Christmas morning in an airport terminal," Toby vowed. "Come hell or high water, I’ll be home tonight. Even if I have to hitch a ride with a snowplow driver."

"We can tell the kids that Santa Claus brought you home in his sleigh," Chris joked.

Toby smiled for the first time in days. "Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that. I’ll see you soon."

"I’ll plan on it."  
_____

**_* Please have snow, and mistletoe,  
And presents 'neath the tree. *_ **

The taxi pulled up to the front of the house. Toby paid the driver, then stepped out of the cab and into the steadily falling snow. A good two or three inches of white powder already lay on the ground. Toby gathered his luggage and slowly made his way up the driveway toward the front door. Twice, the wheels of his suitcase caught on the slush, so he picked it up and carried it the rest of the way.

Toby opened the door and was immediately struck by how quiet everything was. Looking at his watch, he realized that it was already past the kids' bedtime. Somehow, Chris must have gotten them to settle down and go to sleep all on his own. Toby made his way down the hallway and quietly opened the doors to their rooms.

There they were, snuggled in their beds, sound asleep. Toby vaguely wondered if visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads. _Did Chris read them ''Twas the Night Before Christmas'' before he tucked them in?_ In a moment of selfishness, Toby hoped that he hadn't. That was supposed to be Toby's job. 

Toby proceeded toward the bedroom he shared with Chris, pausing at the threshold when he saw the sprig of mistletoe hanging from the top of the door frame. With a weary smile, he walked inside, half-expecting to see Chris lying spread-eagle on their bed, naked save for a Santa hat. But the room was empty.

Toby headed to their bathroom. He walked past the bed, and his smile widened as he spotted more mistletoe. There were sprigs tied to the bed's headboard, its footboard, and the ceiling fan. Another one had been taped above the bathroom doorway, and yet another onto the mirror inside. Working on a hunch, Toby pulled back the shower curtain and laughed. Yes, there was even one hanging from the shower head. Apparently, Chris had definite plans for later and was covering all the bases.

Toby quickly washed his face and brushed his teeth. Already, he felt a hundred times better than he had when he’d arrived. Now, he just needed to find Chris and see what he was up to.

He began to wander back through the house, searching for him, and heard the quiets strains of Bing Crosby's unmistakable voice emanating from the family room. He walked into the room, but Chris wasn't there, either. 

Toby paused to take a moment to admire their Christmas tree, set up in front of the room’s wide picture window. It was covered in twinkling white lights, shiny garland, and a variety of ornaments that ranged from pricey Hallmark collectibles to undefinable objects made by the kids in school. He warily eyed the angel at the top of the tree and shook his head. But he smiled at the memory of the passionate discussion that had preceded its placement, when conflicting views had been expressed regarding angels vs. stars as the proper tree-top fixture. It was one of the rare debates that Toby had lost.

Glancing downward, Toby realized that Santa had already made his visit. Placed under the tree were packages and boxes of all shapes and sizes, wrapped in colorful Christmas paper, some with a decorative bow stuck to the top. Toby had done most of the shopping before he'd left for his trip, but he had never gotten around to wrapping anything. Apparently, Chris had taken care of that, too.

Toby turned and stumbled unexpectedly into the coffee table. It had been pushed randomly to the side of the room, most likely to clear a space in front of their tree. On the table lay a plate of homemade Christmas cookies, a tall glass of milk, and a folded piece of paper that was surely a note to Santa. 

Toby reached down and selected a tree-shaped cookie, one that was decorated with a mass of rainbow sprinkles held together by a glob of green frosting. Just as Toby took a big bite, he heard a metallic, clanking noise originating from the depths of the basement, quickly followed by a loud "Fuck!"

Toby chuckled to himself. _Sounds like Santa is still here._ He placed the cookie back on the plate, drank some milk, and headed for the door that led to the basement.  
_____

**_* Christmas Eve will find me,  
Where the love-light gleams. *_ **

Toby gently knocked on the door to Chris’s workroom. Slowly, he pushed it open, and there stood Chris, sucking on a finger of one hand while holding a wrench in the other. Propped up beside him was a junior-sized electric dirt bike.

Chris’s expression changed from a grimace to a grin as he pulled the finger out of his mouth. "Hey, you’re back!" he exclaimed.

Toby returned his smile. "Yeah, I got in a few minutes ago."

"Flight go okay?"

"It was fine. The snow held off to start with, but it’s really coming down now." Toby stared at the bike and waved a hand in its direction. "May I ask what’s going on here?"

"Ah, I pinched myself tightenin’ this one gear. I just finished puttin’ the whole thing together."

Toby looked at Chris and raised his eyebrow. "I thought we determined that Harry was still too young for a dirt bike."

"No, you and your mother determined that, while I held my tongue to keep the peace."

Toby just shook his head in defeat. Changing topics, he asked, "How was church?"

"Oh, it was great," Chris answered. "You should’ve seen Holly. She was the prettiest Wise Man ever."

"I’ll watch your recording later. Any problems getting them to bed?"

"Not really. It’s been a busy day; they were pretty tired." Chris dropped the wrench onto his workbench. He grabbed the bike’s handlebar and pushed it toward Toby. "Here, help me get this up the stairs," he instructed.

Together, they half-pushed, half-carried Harry’s new dirt bike up the stairs and into the living room. Chris carefully parked it off to the side of the tree and threw a blanket over it.

Wiping his hands on his jeans, Chris glanced around the room. "I think that about does it," he said. "Time for bed!"

"I saw your plans for going to bed," Toby said with a smile.

Chris flashed him a look of wide-eyed innocence. "Just doin’ some last-minute Christmas decoratin’ is all," he proclaimed.

Toby laughed and grabbed Chris’s arm. Together they walked toward their bedroom, coming to a stop when they reached the doorway.

Toby pointed to the mistletoe above them. "Well, would you look at that!" he said mockingly.

But Chris just stood there, looking into Toby’s eyes. "I missed you, babe," he whispered. "I’m so glad you’re home."

Even in the dim light of the hallway, Toby could see and feel the intensity of Chris’s piercing gaze and the love behind it. That intensity scared him sometimes, but right now all he wanted was to soak it up like a sponge.

"I’m glad to be home, too," Toby responded. He let Chris make the first move, and soft lips met his. Toby put his hands on Chris's shoulders and returned the kiss, shyly at first, then hungrily. Just how Chris liked it. 

Toby eventually broke the kiss to catch his breath. "C'mon, Santa," he growled. "I want to open my present early." He took Chris by the hand and led him toward their bed.  
_____

**_* I’ll be home for Christmas,  
If only in my dreams. *_ **

Toby woke with a start. He tried to move, but his muscles had cramped. He tried to open his eyes, but a bright light made it impossible. Confused, he began to moan in desperation.

He felt a gentle but strong hand grip his arm.

"Toby, Toby," Chris soothed. "It’s all right. You’re dreamin’."

Toby fell still. Chris leaned over him, his body creating a shadow, and Toby was finally able to open his eyes. He focused them on Chris's smiling face. Toby slowly looked down and noted that they were both shirtless. Further inspection revealed that they wearing swimming trunks and lying in narrow lounge chairs. The bright light came from the sun as it beat down on top of them. Nearby was the sound of splashing water.

Toby wiped a hand over his face. Pieces of the puzzle started to come together.

_Pool. Resort. Disney World. Florida._

"The kids?" he croaked in a panic.

"They’re in the pool with your mother."

Toby groaned as he struggled to sit up.

Chris helped him get into position. "What were you dreamin' about?" he asked.

Toby sighed. "Our first Christmas at home."

"You were really out of it," laughed Chris. "I guess you were exhausted. All the travel and festivities and excitement must've caught up with you."

Toby rubbed his eyes and looked around, willing his senses to return. Crowds of people were everywhere: running around, frolicking in the water, sunbathing, playing volleyball on a tiny man-made plot of sand... while poolside waitresses dodged all of them to bring people their food and drinks.

"I promised the kids we'd go back to the park later after we had somethin' to eat," Chris prattled on. "They still wanna try'n get their picture taken with Mickey Mouse. Hopefully, the lines'll have died down by then."

Toby shook his head, still trying to clear the cobwebs. _Nothing was right with this picture._ "Who the fuck spends Christmas at Disney World?" he grumped.

Chris gave him a strange look. "Are you kidding? A whole fuckin' lot of people, based on what we saw today."

"No, no. This is wrong," Toby said. "This is all wrong."

He turned to look directly at Chris. "We should be home for Christmas."

"Home?"

"Yes," Toby reiterated impatiently. "There should be a church pageant, and snow, and a tree, and mistletoe, and the kids jumping out of their own beds to see what Santa brought."

"But, Tobe, this vacation was your idea. And everyone's havin' a great time."

"It was a terrible idea. This isn't Christmas," cried Toby with a wave of his hand. "We should be home," he repeated.

Chris sat and stared at him. Finally, he whispered, "No, Toby. You got it all wrong." 

Chris moved closer to him and took his hand. "Home isn't a place," he said quietly. "It's the people you're with. You and the kids are my home—the best home I've ever had."

Chris paused and looked down at his feet. He cleared his throat before continuing. 

"And Christmas is about showin' people how much you love them," he added. "It ain't about presents or snow or a tree."

Toby stopped for a moment to reflect on Chris’s words, and he felt as though his heart would burst with the love he felt. 

"You're right," he quietly agreed, and he knew that he was being stupid for even considering that any other set of circumstances could possibly be better than what he had at this moment. He squeezed Chris's hand, leaned forward, and gave him a small kiss.

Chris gave Toby a sly grin. "Now mistletoe, on the other hand… that’s a whole 'nother story," he said. "Which explains why I made sure to pack some in our suitcase."


End file.
